WINNEMAK WARNS US OF THE APPROACH OF INDIANS--BARTLE GOES OUT TO SCOUT--
NO SIGNS OF A FOE--I TAKE THE LIEUTENANT TO VISIT "ROARING WATER"--
BARTLE REPORTS THAT THE ENEMY HAVE TURNED BACK--THE LIEUTENANT DELAYED
BY THE SERGEANT'S ILLNESS--THE VISIT TO THE HUT--A TIPSY TROOPER--KLITZ
AND GILLOOLY MISSING--THE LIEUTENANT BECOMES WORSE--SEARCH FOR THE
MISSING MEN--I OFFER TO ACT AS GUIDE TO THE LIEUTENANT--BARTLE
UNDERTAKES TO FIND OUT WHAT HAS BECOME OF KLITZ AND BARNEY.
"Glad to see you, friend!" said Uncle Jeff, getting up and taking the
Indian by the hand. "What brings you here?"
"To prove that Winnemak has not forgotten the kindness shown him by the
Palefaces," was the answer. "He has come to warn his friends, who sleep
in security, that their enemies are on the war-path, and will ere long
attempt to take their scalps."
"They had better not try that game," said Uncle Jeff; "if they do, they
will find that they have made a mistake."
"The Redskins fight not as do the Palefaces; they try to take their
enemies by surprise," answered Winnemak. "They will wait until they can
find the white men scattered about over the farm, when they will swoop
down upon them like the eagle on its prey; or when all are slumbering
within, they will creep up to the house, and attack it before there is
time for defence."
"Much obliged for your warning, friend," said Uncle Jeff; "but I should
like to know more about these enemies, and where they are to be found.
We might manage to turn the tables, and be down upon them when they
fancy that we are all slumbering in security, and thus put them to the
right-about."
"They are approaching as stealthily as the snake in the grass," answered
Winnemak. "Unless you can get on their trail, it will be no easy matter
to find them."
"Who are these enemies you speak of; and how do you happen to know that
they are coming to attack us?" asked Uncle Jeff, who generally suspected
all Indian reports, and fancied that Winnemak was merely repeating what
he had heard, or, for some reason of his own--perhaps to gain credit to
himself--had come to warn us of a danger which had no real existence.
"I was leading forth my braves to revenge the loss we suffered last
year, when our scouts brought word that they had fallen in with a large
war-party of Arrapahas and Apaches, far too numerous for our small band
to encounter with any chance of success. We accordingly retreated,
watching for an opportunity to attack any parties of the enemy who might
become separated from the larger body. They also sent out their scouts,
and one of these we captured. My braves were about to put him to death,
but I promised him his liberty if he would tell me the object of the
expedition. Being a man who was afraid to die, he told us that the
party consisted of his own tribe and the Apaches, who had been joined by
some Spanish Palefaces; and that their object was not to make war on
either the Kaskayas or the Pawnees, but to rob a wealthy settler living
on the side of the mountains, as well as any other white men they might
find located in the neighbourhood. Feeling sure that their evil designs
were against my friends, I directed my people to follow me, while I
hastened forward to give you due warning of what is likely to happen.
As they are very numerous, and have among them firearms and ammunition,
it may be a hard task, should they attack the house, to beat them off."
Such in substance was the information Winnemak brought us.
"To my mind, the fellows will never dare to come so far north as this;
or, if they do, they will think twice about it before they venture to
attack our farm," answered Uncle Jeff.
"A wise man is prepared for anything which can possibly happen," said
the Indian. "What is there to stop them? They are too numerous to be
successfully opposed by any force of white men in these parts; and my
braves are not willing to throw away their lives to no purpose."
Uncle Jeff thought the matter over. "I will send out a trusty scout to
ascertain who these people are, and what they are about," he said at
length. "If they are coming this way, we shall get ready to receive
them; and if not, we need not further trouble ourselves."
Lieutenant Broadstreet, who held the Indians cheap, was very much
inclined to doubt the truth of the account brought by Winnemak, but he
agreed that Uncle Jeff's plan was a prudent one.
Bartle Won immediately volunteered to start off to try and find the
whereabouts of the supposed marauding party. His offer was at once
accepted; and before many minutes were over he had left the farm, armed
with his trusty rifle, and his axe and hunting-knife in his belt.
"Take care they do not catch you," observed the lieutenant.
"If you knew Bartle, you would not give him such advice," said Uncle
Jeff. "He is not the boy to be caught napping by Redskins; he is more
likely to lay a dozen of them low than lose his own scalp."
The Indian seeing Bartle go, took his leave, saying that he would join
his own people, who were to encamp, according to his orders, near a wood
in the valley below. He too intended to keep a watch on the enemy; and
should he ascertain that they were approaching, he would, he said, give
us warning.
"We can trust to your assistance, should we be attacked," said Uncle
Jeff; "or, if you will come with your people inside the house, you may
help us in defending it."
Winnemak shook his head at the latter proposal.
"We will aid you as far as we can with our small party," he answered;
"but my people would never consent to shut themselves up within walls.
They do not understand that sort of fighting. Trust to Winnemak; he
will do all he can to serve you."
"We are very certain of that, friend," said Uncle Jeff.
The Indian, after once more shaking hands with us, set off to join his
tribe.
Lieutenant Broadstreet expressed his satisfaction at having come to the
farm. "If you are attacked, my four men and I may be of some use to
you; for I feel sure that we shall quickly drive away the Redskins,
however numerous they may be," he observed.
He advised that all the doors and lower windows should be barricaded, in
case a surprise might be attempted; and that guards should be posted,
and another scout sent out to keep watch near the house, in case Bartle
might have missed the enemy, or any accident have happened to him. The
latter Uncle Jeff deemed very unnecessary, so great was his confidence
in Bartle's judgment and activity.
Notice was sent to the hut directing the men to come in should they be
required, but it was not considered necessary for them to sleep inside
the house.
These arrangements having been made, those not on watch retired to rest.
But although Uncle Jeff took things so coolly, I suspect that he was
rather more anxious than he wished it to appear. I know that I myself
kept awake the greater part of the night, listening for any sounds which
might indicate the approach of a foe, and ready to set out at a moment's
notice with my rifle in hand,--which I had carefully loaded and placed
by my bedside before I lay down. Several times I started up, fancying
that I heard a distant murmur; but it was simply the roaring of the
cataract coming down the canon.
At daybreak I jumped up, and quickly dressing, went downstairs. Soon
afterwards Gideon Tuttle, who had been scouting near the house, came in,
stating that he had seen no light to the southward which would indicate
the camp-fires of an enemy, and that, according to his belief, none was
likely to appear. In this Uncle Jeff was inclined to agree with him.
Lieutenant Broadstreet now expressed a wish to proceed on his way; at
the same time, he said that he did not like to leave us until it was
certain that we were not likely to be exposed to danger.
"Much obliged to you, friend," said Uncle Jeff, "you are welcome to stay
here as long as you please; and Bartle Won will soon be in, when we
shall know all about the state of affairs."
It was our custom to breakfast at an early hour in the morning, as we
had to be away looking after the cattle, and attending to the other
duties of the farm.
The lieutenant happened to ask me why we called the location "Roaring
Water."
"I see only a quiet, decent stream flowing by into the valley below," he
observed.
"Wait until we have a breeze coming down the canon, and then you will
understand why we gave the name of `Roaring Water' to this place," I
answered. "As I can be spared this morning, and there is not much
chance of the enemy coming, if you like to accompany me I will take you
to the cataract which gives its name to this `quiet, decent stream,' as
you call it; then you will believe that we have not misnamed the
locality."
We set off together. The lieutenant looked as if he would have liked to
ask Clarice to accompany us; but she was busy about her household
duties, and gave no response to his unspoken invitation.
Boy-like, I took a great fancy to the young officer. He was quiet and
gentlemanly, and free from all conceit.
I took him to Cold-Water Spring, at which Clarice had met the Indian;
and after swallowing a draught from it, we made our way onward over the
rough rocks and fallen logs until we came in sight of what we called our
cataract. It appeared directly before us, rushing, as it were, out of
the side of the hill (though in reality there was a considerable stream
above us, which was concealed by the summits of the intervening rocks);
then downward it came in two leaps, striking a ledge about half-way,
where masses of spray were sent off; and then taking a second leap, it
fell into a pool; now rushing forth again foaming and roaring down a
steep incline, until it reached the more level portion of the canon.
"That is indeed a fine cataract, and you have well named your location
from it," observed the lieutenant. "I wish I had had my sketch-book
with me; I might have made a drawing of it, to carry away in remembrance
of my visit here."
"I will send you one with great pleasure," I answered.
"Do you draw?" he asked, with a look of surprise, probably thinking that
such an art was not likely to be possessed by a young backwoodsman.
"I learned when I was a boy, and I have a taste that way, although I
have but little time to exercise it," I answered.
He replied that he should be very much obliged. "Does your sister
draw?--I conclude that young lady is your sister?" he said in a tone of
inquiry.
"Oh yes! Clarice draws better than I do," I said. "But she has even
less time than I have, for she is busy from morning till night; there is
no time to spare for amusement of any sort. Uncle Jeff would not
approve of our `idling our time,' as he would call it, in that sort of
way."
The lieutenant seemed inclined to linger at the waterfall, so that I had
to hurry him away, as I wanted to be back to attend to my duties. I was
anxious, also, to hear what account Bartle Won would bring in.
But the day passed away, and Bartle did not appear. Uncle Jeff's
confidence that he could have come to no harm was not, however, shaken.
"It may be that he has discovered the enemy, and is watching their
movements; or perhaps he has been tempted to go on and on until he has
found out that there is no enemy to be met with, or that they have taken
the alarm and beat a retreat," he observed.
Still the lieutenant was unwilling to leave us, although Uncle Jeff did
not press him to stay.
"It will never do for me to hurry off with my men, and leave a party of
whites in a solitary farm to be slaughtered by those Redskin savages,"
he said.
At all events, he stayed on until the day was so far spent that it would
not have been worth while to have started.
Clarice found a little leisure to sit down at the table with her
needle-work, very much to the satisfaction of the lieutenant, who did
his best to make himself agreeable.
I was away down the valley driving the cattle into their pen, when I
caught sight of Bartle coming along at his usual swinging pace towards
the farm.
"Well, what news?" I asked, as I came up to him.
"Our friend Winnemak was not romancing," he answered. "There were fully
as many warriors on the war-path as he stated; but, for some reason or
other, they turned about and are going south. I came upon their trail
after they had broken up their last camp, and I had no difficulty in
getting close enough to them to make out their numbers, and the tribes
they belong to. The appearance of their camp, however, told me clearly
that they are a very large body. We have to thank the chief for his
warning; at the same time, we need not trouble ourselves any more on the
subject."
"Have they done any harm on their march?" I asked.
"As to that, I am afraid that some settlers to the south have suffered;
for I saw, at night, the glare of several fires, with which the rascals
must have had something to do. I only hope that the poor white men had
time to escape with their lives. If I had not been in a hurry to get
back, I would have followed the varmints, and picked off any stragglers
I might have come across."
"As you, my friends, are safe for the present, I must be off to-morrow
morning with my men," said the lieutenant when I got back; "but I will
report the position you are in at Fort Harwood, and should you have
reason to expect an attack you can dispatch a messenger, and relief
will, I am sure, be immediately sent you."
I do not know that Uncle Jeff cared much about this promise, so
confident did he feel in his power to protect his own property,--
believing that his men, though few, would prove staunch. But he thanked
the lieutenant, and hoped he should have the pleasure of seeing him
again before long.
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During the night the sergeant was taken ill; and as he was no better in
the morning, Lieutenant Broadstreet, who did not wish to go without him,
was further delayed. The lieutenant hoped, however, that by noon the
poor fellow might have sufficiently recovered to enable them to start.
After breakfast I accompanied him to the hut to visit the other men.
Although he summoned them by name,--shouting out "Karl Klitz," "Barney
Gillooly," "Pat Sperry,"--no one answered; so, shoving open the door, we
entered. At first the hut appeared to be empty, but as we looked into
one of the bunks we beheld the last-named individual, so sound asleep
that, though his officer shouted to him to know what had become of his
comrades, he only replied by grunts.
"The fellow must be drunk," exclaimed the lieutenant, shaking the man.
This was very evident; and as the lieutenant intended not to set off
immediately, he resolved to leave him in bed to sleep off his debauch.
But what had become of the German and the fat Irishman? was the
question. The men belonging to the hut were all away, so we had to go
in search of one of them, to learn if he could give any account of the
truants. The negro, who went by no other name than Sam or Black Sam,
was the first we met. Sam averred, on his honour as a gentleman, that
when he left the hut in the morning they were all sleeping as quietly as
lambs; and he concluded that they had gone out to take a bath in the
stream, or a draught of cool water at the spring. The latter the
lieutenant thought most probable, if they had been indulging in
potations of whisky on the previous evening; as to bathing, none of them
were likely to go and indulge in such a luxury.
To Cold-Water Spring we went; but they were not to be seen, nor could
the other men give any account of them.
The lieutenant burst into a fit of laughter, not unmixed with vexation.
"A pretty set of troops I have to command--my sergeant sick, one drunk,
and two missing."
"Probably Klitz and Gillooly have only taken a ramble, and will soon be
back," I observed; "and by that time the other fellow will have
recovered from his tipsy fit; so it is of no use to be vexed. You
should be more anxious about Sergeant Custis, for I fear he will not be
able to accompany you for several days to come."
On going back to the house, we found the sergeant no better. Rachel,
indeed, said that he was in a raging fever, and that he must have
suffered from a sunstroke, or something of that sort.
The lieutenant was now almost in despair; and though the dispatches he
carried were not of vital importance, yet they ought, he said, to be
delivered as soon as possible, and he had already delayed two days. As
there was no help for it, however, and he could not at all events set
out until his men came back, I invited him to take a fishing-rod and
accompany me to a part of the stream where, although he might not catch
many fish, he would at all events enjoy the scenery.
It was a wild place; the rocks rose to a sheer height of two or three
hundred feet above our heads, broken into a variety of fantastic forms.
In one place there was a cleft in the rock, out of which the water
flowed into the main stream. The lieutenant, who was fond of fishing,
was soon absorbed in the sport, and, as I expected, forgot his troubles
about his men.
He had caught several trout and a couple of catfish, when I saw Rachel
hurrying towards us.
"Massa Sergeant much worse," she exclaimed; "him fear him die; want bery
much to see him officer, so I come away while Missie Clarice watch ober
him. Him bery quiet now,--no fear ob him crying out for present."
On hearing this, we gathered up our fishing-rods and hastened back to
the house, considerably outwalking Rachel, who came puffing after us.
We found Clarice standing by the bedside of the sick man, moistening his
parched lips, and driving away the flies from his face.
"I am afraid I am going, sir," he said as the lieutenant bent over him.
"Before I die, I wish to tell you that I do not trust those two men of
ours, Karl Klitz and Gillooly. I learned from Pat Sperry that they have
been constantly putting their heads together of late, and he suspects
that they intend either to desert, or to do some mischief or other."
"Thank you," said the lieutenant; "but do not trouble yourself about
such matters now. I will look after the men. You must try to keep your
mind quiet. I hope that you are not going to die, as you suppose. I
have seen many men look much worse than you do, and yet recover."
The sergeant, after he had relieved his mind, appeared to be more quiet.
Rachel insisted on his taking some of her remedies; and as evening drew
on he was apparently better,--at all events, no worse. Clarice and the
negress were unremitting in their attentions, utterly regardless of the
fever being infectious; I do not think, indeed, that the idea that it
was so ever entered their heads.
The lieutenant had been so occupied with his poor sergeant, that he
seemed to have forgotten all about his missing men. At last, however,
he recollected them, and I went back with him to the hut.
On the way we looked into the stables, where we found the five horses
and baggage-mules all right; so that the men, if they had deserted, must
have done so on foot.
We opened the door of the hut, hoping that possibly by this time the
missing men might have returned; but neither of them was there. The
drunken fellow was, however, still sleeping on, and probably would have
slept on until his hut companions came back, had we not roused him up.
"You must take care that your people do not give him any more liquor, or
he will be in the same state to-morrow morning," observed the
lieutenant.
We had some difficulty in bringing the man to his senses; but the
lieutenant finding a pitcher of water, poured the contents over him,
which effectually roused him up.
"Hullo! murther! are we all going to be drowned entirely at the bottom?
Sure the river's burst over us!" he exclaimed, springing out of his
bunk. He looked very much astonished at seeing the lieutenant and me;
but quickly bringing himself into position, and giving a military
salute, "All right, your honour," said he.
"Yes, I see that you are so now," said the lieutenant; "but little help
you could have afforded us, had we been attacked by the enemy. I must
call you to account by-and-by. What has become of your comrades?"
"Sure, your honour, are they not all sleeping sweetly as infants in
their bunks?" He peered as he spoke into the bunks which had been
occupied by the other men. "The drunken bastes, it was there I left
them barely two hours ago, while I jist turned in to get a quiet snooze.
They are not there now, your honour," he observed, with a twinkle in
his eye; "they must have gone out unbeknown to me. It is mighty
surprising!"
"Why, you impudent rascal, you have been asleep for the last twelve
hours," said the lieutenant, scarcely able to restrain his gravity.
"Take care that this does not happen again; keep sober while you remain
here."
"Sure, your honour, I would not touch a dhrop of the cratur, even if
they were to try and pour it down me throat," he answered. "But I found
a countryman of mine living here. It is a hard matter, when one meets a
boy from Old Ireland, to refuse jist a sip of the potheen for the sake
of gintility!"
"Follow me to the house as soon as you have put yourself into decent
order," said the lieutenant, not wishing to exchange further words with
the trooper.
Pat touched his hat, to signify that he would obey the order, and the
lieutenant and I walked on.
"I cannot put that fellow under arrest, seeing that I have no one to
whom I can give him in charge," said the lieutenant, laughing. "But
what can have become of the others? I do not think, notwithstanding
what Sergeant Custis said, that they can have deserted. They would
scarcely make an attempt to get over this wild country alone, and on
foot."
As soon as Pat made his appearance, the lieutenant ordered him to stand
on guard at the door, where he kept him until nightfall.
When our men came in, I inquired whether they knew anything of the
troopers. They one and all averred that they had left them sleeping in
the hut, and that they had no notion where they could have gone.
"Could the fellows, when probably as drunk as Pat, have fallen into the
torrent and been drowned!" exclaimed the lieutenant anxiously.
"Sure, they were as sober as judges," observed Dan, one of our men.
Then an idea seemed to strike him. "To be sure, your honour, they might
have gone fishing up the stream. That broth of a boy Barney might jist
have rolled in, and the long Dutchman have tried to haul him out, and
both have been carried away together. Ill luck to Roaring Water, if it
has swallowed up my countryman Barney."
I suspected, from the way in which Dan spoke, that he had no great
belief that such a catastrophe had occurred; in fact, knowing the fellow
pretty well, I thought it very probable that, notwithstanding what he
said, he was cognisant of the whereabouts of the truants.
Uncle Jeff and the lieutenant examined and cross-examined all the men;
but no satisfactory information could be got out of them.
"Whether they come back or not, I must be on my way to-morrow morning
with Sperry; while I leave my sergeant under your care, if you will take
charge of him," said the lieutenant.
Uncle Jeff willingly undertook to do this.
"As you are unacquainted with the way, and Pat is not likely to be of
much assistance, if Uncle Jeff will allow me I will act as your guide to
the mouth of the pass, after which you will have no great difficulty in
finding your way to Fort Harwood," I said to the lieutenant.
He gladly accepted my offer.
"But what about the possibility of the farm being attacked by the
Indians? You would not like in that case to be absent, and I should be
unwilling to deprive your friends of your aid," he observed. "If you
accompany me, I must leave Sperry to attend on Sergeant Custis, and to
come on with him when he is well enough. Although I do not compare the
Irishman to you, yet, should the farm be attacked, I can answer for his
firing away as long as he has a bullet left in his pouch."
Uncle Jeff, much to my satisfaction, allowed me to accompany the
lieutenant. I had a good horse, too, and had no fears about making my
way back safely, even should the country be swarming with Indians.
When the lieutenant spoke of the possibility of the farm being attacked
by the Redskins, Uncle Jeff laughed. "They will not venture thus far,"
he observed. "But even if they do come, we will give a good account of
them. Not to speak of my rifle, Bartle's and Gideon's are each worth
fifty muskets in the hands of the Indians; our other four fellows, with
your trooper, will keep the rest at bay, however many there may be of
them. The sergeant, too, will be able to handle a rifle before long, I
hope; while Clarice and Rachel will load the arms, and look after any of
us who may be hurt. But we need not talk about that; the varmints will
not trouble us, you may depend upon it."
When Bartle Won heard of the disappearance of the troopers, and that we
had examined our men, but had been unable to elicit any information from
them as to what had become of the truants, he observed,--"Leave that to
me. If they know anything about the matter, I will get it out of them
before long. As to the fellows having tumbled into the torrent, I do
not believe it. They are not likely to have gone off without our people
knowing something about it. They are either in hiding somewhere near
Roaring Water,--and if so, I shall soon ferret them out,--or else they
have gone away to take squaws from among the Indians, and set up for
themselves."
The lieutenant did not think that the latter proceeding was very
probable; but their absence was mysterious, and we had to confess that
we were no wiser as to their whereabouts than we were at first.